


some kind of resolution

by ThunderstormsandMemories



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 09:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10435095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderstormsandMemories/pseuds/ThunderstormsandMemories
Summary: “I must take responsibility for my own actions,” said Arthur, still staring down at his hands and refusing to meet Merlin’s gaze. “I can’t let anyone shield me from that any longer.” He lifted his head, his eyes snapping up to meet Merlin’s. “Even a sorcerer.”or,1x11/Labyrinth of Gedref except the magic reveal happens immediately prior to the final test





	

This was definitely a trap. There was no way for this to not be a trap, as Merlin had tried to point out all morning, until Arthur finally snapped and said, “It doesn’t matter. I know it’s a trap, there wouldn’t be much of a test otherwise. But you’re still not coming with me.”

“If it’s a trap,” said Merlin, “and it is, and you know that and I know that, then doesn’t it follow that I should stay behind and let you charge into who knows what danger on your own-”

“All the more reason for you to stay home,” said Arthur firmly. “I’m not dragging you into extra danger with me, not this time. It was my mistake, and I alone must atone for it.” It was comforting, on one hand, the sort of nobility and selflessness that the guardian was probably looking for, the sort of thing that Merlin saw in him sometimes, when he could see the kind of king he would eventually become. On the other, selflessness was too close to self-sacrifice, and seeing in it in Arthur terrified him.

Which is why he followed him. Which is how he ended up in this maze of hedges, running after the sound of Arthur’s footsteps, the glint of light off his sword and armor, losing sight of him until turning a corner and seeing him at the other end of a corridor of leaves. He caught sight of the look on Arthur’s face—the surprise quickly turning to resignation, as if he expected nothing less—before he was distracted by a flurry of sudden motion as the maze itself started attacking them. No, not them. Just Arthur, and no matter how good of a swordsman he was he soon disappeared under the vines wrapping themselves around him, and Merlin started forward.

If he had a sword, maybe it would have been different. Maybe he could have hacked away at a few of the vines and pretended that was why they all fell away as if by magic. But he didn’t, and it all happened too fast, and he couldn’t hear Arthur shouting anymore, and what if he couldn’t breathe-

Before he knew what he meant to do, his hand was raised and he felt the magic surging through him, the vines crumbling into ash, and Arthur whirled around, sword still raised, in time to see Merlin lowering his hand, his eyes still glowing gold.

He didn’t even have a chance to process the expression on Arthur’s face before the vines turned their attention to him and he was dragged back into the darkness before he could fight back.

 ---

It was bright, too bright, and he wanted to close his eyes tightly against the glare, possibly even fade back into unconsciousness to avoid the light of the sun shining off the water and the cliffs and the pair of goblets and Arthur’s armor.

He forced his eyes to remain open and lifted his head. “Arthur-” he started to say.

“Merlin-”

“Sit down,” said Anhora. “This is your final test.”

Merlin hardly heard his instruction, too busy trying to read the expression on Arthur’s face, and when Anhora fell silent he said, numbly, “It’s obvious, isn’t it? We pour all of the liquid into one goblet, and then I drink it.” Better that he said it first, less painful if suggested it himself instead of hearing Arthur say that he should be the one to die for what he did, what he was. Better to get that out in the open, instead of waiting in suspense while Arthur figured out the most polite to pass his death sentence.

“What? No,” Arthur said, and Merlin jolted in his seat, staring across at him in shock as he said, “This is my test, my punishment. Camelot is suffering because of what I’ve done, I won’t have any more people die for me.”

Morgana would have said that was all kings ever did, let people die for them, but Merlin was not Morgana and this was not the right time.

“I must take responsibility for my own actions,” said Arthur, still staring down at his hands and refusing to meet Merlin’s gaze. “I can’t let anyone shield me from that any longer.” He lifted his head, his eyes snapping up to meet Merlin’s. “Even a sorcerer.”

“Arthur, please, listen-”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Arthur said. “It doesn’t matter what I think, or what I know. All that matters now is what I have to do, and I would do the same no matter who was sitting across from me.”

It should have been encouraging, that Arthur wasn’t as bad as Uther, that he wasn’t willing to let hatred and fear prevent him from doing the right thing. It meant he had learned something, and that Uther hadn’t been completely successful in lecturing away his compassion. But in the moment all Merlin cared about was that Arthur was determined to be the one to die, and that anything that existed between them was either gone or had never been more than Merlin’s wishful thinking.

“It does matter,” he said. “You need to understand.”

“I understand enough,” Arthur said, “to do what must be done. What else could possibly make a difference?”

“You don’t understand why,” Merlin said. “And you can’t know what must be done unless you know why you’re doing it.”

“You sound like Gwen,” Arthur said, the ghost of a smile on his lips for the first time.

Merlin smiled back weakly. “You should listen to her sometimes,” he said. “She’s the smartest of us all.” And then, when Arthur waited for him to explain instead of arguing, he sighed and continued, “I saved your life. My magic saved your life. Today, in Ealdor, against that griffin, ever since Lady Helen, I have been using my magic to save your life. You have a destiny, Arthur, and so do I, and my destiny is to make sure you accomplish yours. Which is why it has to be me.” He grabbed Arthur’s goblet and poured its contents into his own. “Goodbye, Arthur. I’m sorry. I-”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, reaching out and clasping Merlin’s hand. “I’m sorry too.” And then before Merlin could react he was drinking from the goblet, it was slipping empty from his hand, he was falling and Merlin was helpless and Arthur was dead.

He wasn’t aware of moving, wasn’t aware of anything but Arthur laying lifeless until he was on his knees beside him, searching desperately and in vain for a heartbeat, until finally the tears he had been holding back broke loose, choking and ugly, and he rested his head against Arthur’s forehead, Arthur’s head cradled in his hands.

And then he heard Anhora clear his throat, and he stood suddenly, abruptly too angry to sit still, too full of useless rage to do anything but scream.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said. “We were supposed to have more time. He was supposed to have more time. Was it all for nothing? Everything I did to keep him safe, to help him become the king he’s meant to be? What does it matter if he dies before we fulfill our destiny?” The words tore out of him, jagged and breathless and despairing, and Anhora gave him the same kind of cryptic, knowing look that the Great Dragon was so fond of. It was less intimidating from him, but just as patronizing and irritating.

“He isn’t dead,” Anhora said. “The poison was only a sleeping draught, and he will recover in time. He passed the test. There would be no reason for me to kill him for that. He was willing to give his life for yours, even knowing what he does about your magic, and so the curse on Camelot will be lifted.”

“That was part of the test,” he said. “You meant for me to follow him, you meant for me to have to defend him, you meant for him to find out.”

“He still made the right choice. And given your entwined destinies, he had to find out eventually.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make! It was mine, and I wasn’t ready, and you took that from me for the sake of your _test_.”

“Would you ever have been ready?” Anhora said patiently, as if explaining something obvious to a small children, and Merlin had never wanted to punch anyone quite this badly.

“It wasn’t your decision,” he said again. “I would have, I was about to, I was almost ready. He trusted me, we were building something together, we were friends, I wanted more even though I knew he could never feel the same… but now that’s gone, because of you.”

“If you really trusted him,” Anhora said, “you would not think that your friendship was over because of this.”

“Easy for you to say,” said Merlin. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, or for our destiny, but it matters to me, right now. Because right now it feels like I betrayed someone I love.”

“A wise king would not see this as a betrayal,” said Anhora, still smugly unfazed. “Nor would someone who loves you. And besides, your destinies have not changed.”

_He’s not king yet_ , Merlin wanted to say, defensively. He was still a prince, and for now potential was enough. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that he was too upset to care that he was potentially antagonizing an incredibly powerful magical being. “Not everything,” he said, “is about destiny.” Which was something no one ever seemed to understand: not the dragon, not Anhora, not even Gaius, although at least Gaius did genuinely mean well.

Anhora shrugged and said, “My part here is done. Arthur has passed my test. What you do next is up to you.” And then he disappeared, which Merlin really should have expected. Powerful magical beings generally didn’t stick around long enough for you to yell at them after they’d given whatever cryptic hints they deigned to share with mere mortals like him.

Arthur cleared his throat, and Merlin spun around, once more kneeling at his side, trying to help him into a sitting position. “Did I hear correctly?” Arthur said, looking entirely too pleased for someone who had recently been poisoned. “You called me your best friend.”

“Nah,” Merlin said, after a second. “You must have misheard. There’s no way I would be friends with someone foolish enough to drink poison for me after I specifically told you not to.”

“It worked,” Arthur said. “Camelot is safe.”

“My nerves aren’t,” Merlin said. “Don’t scare me like that again. I’ve lost too many friends recently to lose you too.”

“I thought you said we weren’t friends,” Arthur said. “But I also heard you say-”

“Wait,” Merlin said, as it dawned on him that he had said many things to Anhora that he didn’t necessarily want Arthur to hear. “How long ago did you wake up?”

Arthur looked sheepish. “Anhora was telling you I wasn’t dead.”

Merlin glared over his shoulder at the empty stretch of beach where Anhora had vanished. “You weren’t…supposed to hear any of that.”

“And apparently I wasn’t _supposed_ to know you have magic, either, but here we are.” He didn’t sound angry or accusing, the way Merlin thought he would, just confused.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. “I didn’t-” Arthur opened his mouth but Merlin kept talking anyway. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or care about you,” he said. “But keeping this secret has been part of me for so long that I don’t know how to talk about it. My mother always knew, and she told me never to tell anyone. The only people who know found out by accident.” Arthur looked as though he wanted to ask who else knew, but he restrained himself, and Merlin appreciated that. “I just didn’t want to put you in a position where you would have to choose between lying to your father and having me killed.” _I didn’t want to know what you would choose_ , he didn’t say, because that would have been cruel and counterproductive, since that had still yet to be determined.

“I’ve lied to my father before,” Arthur said, “and I’ll do it again, as long as I have to. You saved my life, Merlin. Do you really think I would forget that so easily?” When Merlin didn’t answer, he said, “You were wrong, you know."

“About what?”

“You said I could never return your feelings,” he said, reaching out to place his hand—slowly, gently—on Merlin’s face. “And you’re wrong. I did, I always have. I still do.”

“Oh,” Merlin said. “What about when we get back to Camelot? What about my magic? What about Uther?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Arthur said. “We always do, eventually. For now, can we just…” His voice trailed off, and his hand was still on Merlin’s cheek, his face close enough that their foreheads were almost touching.

“Yeah,” Merlin said, closing the distance between them and kissing him like there was nothing else in the world that mattered. His lips still tasted bitterly of poison, but his heartbeat racing under Merlin’s touch told Merlin that he was wondrously, gloriously alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from No Light, No Light by Florence and the Machine because I'm cheesy like that and listen, this is the archetypical magic reveal fic I should have been writing years ago when everyone else was but I was rewatching season 1 with some friends and they were like, hey what if you rewrote some stuff so I did and here we are.
> 
> Also a lot of this is me being frustrated with the ending and how canon turned out so sorry about that but also I'm not. I have spent a lot of time futilely yelling at the Merlin writers, how was I supposed to pass up the chance to let Merlin do the same?


End file.
